


Cigarette Daydreams

by darthearts



Series: Light [6]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9237062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthearts/pseuds/darthearts
Summary: Mina and Momo are not lovers anymore, but Mina fetches a drunk Momo at 3am anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't terribly angsty. I aimed for a kind of muted sadness? I hope this entertains you lmao.

Momo is not her lover – or friend anymore – so Mina doesn’t know why she’s out at 3am in the morning, trudging through the winter cold, on her way to a god forsaken bar.

Things are not supposed to be this way. She shouldn’t have to fetch her wasted ex from a dingy bar because that isn’t how things work. She isn’t obligated to and she should have rejected, but Mina never does what she is supposed to.

Just like how she was supposed to learn ballet, but secretly picked up modern dance. Or how she was supposed to play classical piano pieces by Mozart and Bach, but deviated by learning how to play the piano version of Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance. (Or how she was supposed to date polite boys, but ended up dating Momo.)

Mina is not rebellious by nature, but when a caged sparrow learns of freedom, it yearns to fly. Greed is the basest human instinct and Mina was the good girl who wanted to know more than ballet, piano, and rich suitors that seemed too courteous. Momo, who cussed like a sailor, who danced hip-hop, who hated the piano, intrigued her like a moth to a flame.

She remembers the first time she met Momo – the details are still vivid and clear, like the heartache and tears has failed to blur and erase them all. She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time (with the wrong person.) At a club at midnight, she found herself dizzy and lost among the sea of sweaty people who danced and grinded under neon strobe lights. The pounding bass did nothing to alleviate the confusion, worsening her headache even more. Peer pressure was the main culprit and she realized sooner rather than later that she had made a terrible decision that was definitely against her parent’s will.

She stumbled into the washroom of the club, wanting nothing more than to escape the noise, only to find that the washroom was a less than appropriate solace. It reeked of piss and vomit, coupled with the stench of cigarette smoke. She could feel the bile build up at the back of her throat, deciding to go home immediately.

“You look pretty.”

She was about to exit the washroom when she heard a voice, turning around to see a girl, about the same age as her, bringing a cigarette to her lips.

“What?” Mina blurted, hardly able to disguise the disbelief colouring her voice.

“I said you look pretty. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here at a god forsaken club at this hour?” the girl chuckled, fingers deftly lighting up the cigarette between her teeth.

The girl had long blonde hair, bangs dancing near her eyes as she looked up at Mina. She was dressed in a faded white tank top with tatters all over, military cargo trousers and combat boots. The girl was definitely quite a looker, and Mina was sure the girl was confident in her looks by the way she was smirking.

Mina didn’t answer her question, frowning in disapproval and disgust as she watched the girl take a draw of cigarette smoke. The blonde’s painted pink lips parted slightly as smoke dribbled out of her mouth, surrounding the girl in white fog.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” Mina said, glaring daggers at the girl.

The blonde girl blinked before chuckling, more white smoke emerging from between her pretty lips. She approached Mina slowly, compelling Mina to stagger backwards, soon finding her back against the wall.

“I’m already dying,” the girl said nonchalantly.

She placed the cigarette between her lips and inhaled again before blowing the smoke at Mina. Mina coughed, lungs clearly not used to such unhealthy air. The girl was wearing a lopsided grin that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Wanna taste death on my lips?”

When the blonde girl leaned in to press her pink lips against Mina’s, Mina did not push her away. The smoke seemed to have clouded her rationality, forcing her to give way to her instincts instead. Even though the bitterness of cigarettes seemed to mar her lips, she only allowed the girl to deepen the kiss.

The memory of it all makes Mina shudder more than the cold does.

Mina hates every smoker out there, except for one.

She hugs her coat to herself, wishing that she had put on more layers before recklessly charging out into the cold. Snow has already piled up at the corners of the sidewalk and her shoes are crunching against a mix of snow and gravel. Mina sees her breath condense into white fog and it reminds her of cigarette smoke.

A flickering neon sign grabs her attention and she recognizes it as the bar Momo frequents. Increasing her pace, she enters the dimly-lit bar. There is hardly anyone around, only her former lover slumped on one of the counters, still clutching onto an empty glass. The bartender waves her over and she draws nearer, apologizing for the inconvenience Momo has caused.

“It’s no problem, really. There are only two numbers on her speed dial and only you answered. She went way beyond her limit tonight,” the bartender explains, wiping the counter with a cloth. “Shall I flag a cab for you?”

“Yes, please. That would be great. Sorry for the trouble,” Mina apologizes again, bowing as the bartender goes out to wave down a taxi.

Alone, she taps Momo’s shoulder a few times, stirring the latter awake. Eyes fluttering open, Momo’s lips spread into a dopey smile.

“Oh, it’s Minari!” Momo exclaims, head still resting on the counter top, left hand flailing excitedly.

Mina can smell the alcohol on Momo and she sighs, running a hand through her hair. She cannot decide if alcohol is worse than cigarettes. Regardless, the smoke still hangs on Momo’s clothes, clinging on to her like heavy burdens.

“You look like death, Momo,” Mina says wryly.

“Wanna taste death on my lips, then?” Momo grins, pointing to her bottom lip.

“No,” Mina curtly replies, wondering why she is here, stuck with a drunk Momo when a sober Momo is already terrible.

 “You used to kiss me, Minari. Why won’t you kiss me anymore?” Momo pouts, half-lidded eyes staring up at Mina.

Momo blindly reaches out, barely managing to loop her fingers around Mina’s wrist. Mina feels the urge to shirk Momo off, but she can’t find it in herself to be too mean to the girl. Momo plays on that by tugging on Mina’s wrist and Mina wonders if Momo is taking advantage of her kindness, taking it for weakness instead.

Momo tugs at her wrist again, whining, “Minari, why won’t you kiss me?”

Gently prying dainty fingers off her wrist, she just smiles bitterly, wondering why Momo is asking this question when she already has all the answers.

“Because you kissed someone else,” she says simply even though the weight of the words is crushing.

It seems to sober Momo up, because the girl sits straighter, wide eyes flicking towards Mina, hurt reflecting in pools of dark brown. Mina just wears a tired smile and Momo averts her eyes quickly, slouching against the countertop once more. Her eyes snap shut, the alcohol taking over her once more, rendering her unconscious. Mina just exhales, resentment bubbling inside her but she suppresses them anyway.

This is Momo. Reopening wounds and carving new ones. Irrational. Careless. Irresponsible.

(Mina should have known better than to see her again.)

The bartender comes back in time and helps Mina carry Momo out of the bar and into the taxi. Once Momo has collapsed in the backseat, Mina slides in beside her, thanking the bartender for his help. She scrunches her nose at the stale air in the cab, but closes the door anyway. (Anything is better than the smell of cigarettes.)

“Where to, Miss?” the driver looks at them through the rear view mirror, narrowing his eyes at Momo.

Mina tells the driver Momo’s address, mouth suddenly tasting bitter when she realizes that she still knows the girl’s address by heart. The driver nods, shifting gears and pushing down on the accelerator. As the car picks up speed, Mina glances at Momo, who is totally knocked out, mouth wide open in her sleep. If it were months ago, Mina would have smiled fondly and intertwined their fingers just to feel Momo’s skin on hers. But now, she just grits her teeth and clenches her fist to stop her twitching fingers from reaching out to touch.

Averting her eyes, she chooses to stare out the window, feeling the regret rise up and tightening her chest. The phone in the chest pocket of her coat starts vibrating and she fishes it out. Guilt wraps around her heart and squeezes the organ even further when she sees the name flashing on her screen. Unable to ignore the call, she accepts it, putting the phone to her ear.

A bright and chirpy voice addresses her and even though she feels contrite, she cannot help the smile that graces her features even though the person on the other end cannot see.

“Unnie, it’s late, why are you still up? Is there something wrong?” Mina asks, concern permeating her voice.

“I miss you…” the voice trails off, sounding pitiful and sad, Mina can hear the pout in the girl’s voice.

Mina chuckles, the voice making her forget where she is and who she is with, “I was at your apartment an hour ago.”

“But you’re not here now!” the girl complains and Mina can imagine the girl stomping her foot and folding her arms like a spoilt child. “Are you on your way home or are you already home?”

She is suddenly thrust back into reality, blinking as she feels the burden on her shoulders once more. Momo is still sound asleep beside her, blissfully ignorant to the inner turmoil Mina is going through. It tempts Mina to shake the blonde girl violently and yell and scream at her because she shouldn’t have to go through this alone.

“I— I’m with Momo,” she confesses like a sin.

“Oh.”

The girl on the other end falls silent and Mina knows that coming out here to fetch her ex was a wrong decision. Her grip on the phone tightens and she suddenly wants to cry because she keeps making the wrong decisions over and over again.

“I’m sorry, Sana unnie,” she whispers, hoping that the girl can hear her because if she speaks any louder, her voice would be shaking.

“It’s okay. I know.”

The upbeat tone is gone, replaced by one that reeks of disappointment. It makes Mina feel worse than she already is, knowing that she never fails to fall short of expectations, letting down Sana like she always does. It is a vicious cycle that Mina cannot seem to escape from and it only pulls and drags her in deeper like quicksand.

“I’m sorry. Please give me some time,” she allows apologies to spill from her mouth even though she is well aware that she is simply putting a band aid on a gaping wound.

“I’ll always wait for you, Mina. You know that,” Sana sincerely says.

It only makes Mina clutch the phone tighter, wondering why she is hurting someone who actually loves her.

///

Throwing Momo on the bed, she huffs and runs her fingers through her hair. She needs to leave this place. Momo’s apartment is caging her in, imprisoning her, attaching shackles to her limbs.

Nothing has changed since they broke up. Momo’s room still smells like cigarettes. Mina is still stupidly here in Momo’s room. Momo is still the same person who hurt her. It scares her, how she seems to be swept along by endless currents that drown her and how she cannot, for the life of her, breathe under the weight of this relationship.

“Minari… Don’t go,” Momo pleads, sitting up on the bed like she isn’t actually drunk.

Momo is pinning her down with an intense gaze and she immediately looks away, despising herself for having a soft spot for the girl.

“Are you even drunk?” she asks, utterly bewildered.

“I pretended to be.”

Mina turns, head whipping to glower at Momo, “God, you’re so stupid.”

“I am,” the blonde girl agrees, hanging her head, hair partially covering the contrite look on her face.

“I shouldn’t be here, Momo!” Mina yells, the guilt-ridden expression Momo wears somehow angering her. “We’re—God, you’re so stupid!”

“You found someone else, didn’t you? You—You’re moving on.”

Momo is still so selfish, still so immature and Mina is still hung up over her. She knows how pathetic it is and she cannot help the anger that rises within her.

“Did you expect me to cry over you and lock myself up for months?” Mina raises her voice in disbelief. “Because yes, that’s exactly what I did, and I’m done with that!”

“I’m sorry,” Momo mutters cowardly, hiding her face.

“You’ve always been,” Mina sighs, feeling the anger draining out of her, leaving only disappointment in its wake. “I’m _leaving_.”

“You sound like you’re leaving in more ways than one.” Momo makes a sound that sounds more like a sob than a chuckle.

Hugging her knees to herself, Momo sits on her bed, face buried and hid by blonde hair. The girl looks miserable, pitiful even, but Mina cannot stay anymore. Not when someone else is waiting for her.

“That’s because I am,” she says with a note of finality.

Just as she leaves, she spots the ashtray on Momo’s bedside table, the ashes not emptied away. It is the same ashtray she bought for Momo when they were still together. She wonders how smitten she was in the past to be able to buy an ashtray when she hates smokers.

Perhaps it was teenage rebellion, the thrill of doing bad things when she had been good. Or maybe it was the way Momo seemed like an adult, capable of doing adult things like smoking, alcohol, and sex.

Or perhaps it was love. (But even if it was love, it was the wrong kind of love anyway.)

And now, Momo still looks for Mina whenever she is under the influence of alcohol and Mina cannot seem to turn her down. They are turning into a disaster—a mixture of naivety, immaturity, and bad decisions. Mina wonders how things ended up this way.

Another memory of Momo breaks the surface of her mind, causing her chest to tighten and her heart to ache. She pauses at the doorway, reliving memories with Momo.

“What does smoking feel like?” Mina asked, staring at Momo who had just come back from a smoke.

Under the faded lighting of Momo’s room, the blonde girl looked pale despite the lopsided grin she was wearing. She looked like the life was drained out of her, lips dry and parched. If it was one thing Mina noticed about Momo, it was that her smiles never reached her eyes even though she wore teasing smirks and grins like a second skin.

Mina wondered why Momo reminded her of a dull monochrome.

“Curious?” Momo raised an eyebrow, shifting to lie on her side and face Mina.

Momo always carried with her the pungent smell of cigarettes and it was even stronger in her room. It would be a lie to say that Mina didn’t feel suffocated. And yet, here she was, inhaling smoke despite her dread and distaste for it.

“Well, you always smoke, so…” she trailed off, shrugging as Momo scoffed.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m killing myself?”

“Then you’re going to say that you’re already dying,” she retorted.

“Smoking isn’t for pretty girls, Mina.”

Momo turned to lie on her back, like she was trying to dismiss the subject. Mina frowned, sulking because Momo always treated her like a naïve child who should be kept away from the world’s troubles (even when Momo was the definition of trouble).

“You’re pretty but you smoke,” Mina complained, sitting up and folding her arms to express her dissatisfaction.

The blonde girl chuckled lightly, “I’m not pretty at all, Minari.”

She knew better than to argue with Momo; the girl could be more stubborn and persistent than herself. It intrigued Mina, how Momo seemed determined not to let Mina smoke, but never noticed how Mina was compelled to inhale second-hand smoke. Mina just stared at the girl, tilting her head in curiousity.

“So what does it feel like?” she tried the question again.

Momo fell silent, closing her eyes and exhaling. Mina took the action as a dismissal and she huffed, glaring at the blonde girl even though the latter couldn’t see. The annoyance dissipated rather quickly and Mina took to staring at Momo, watching how her chest rose and fell, the serenity of her expressions a stark contrast to when she was awake.

Momo was pretty in a striking kind of way, so Mina could not understand why the girl always denied her beauty. Momo was the kind of girl who caught attention despite her quiet nature, the girl who invited second glances and stares that people found hard to stop. It was hard to forget someone like Momo. It made Mina wonder why Momo was still here instead of upping and leaving like she always would.

“A daydream.”

The girl’s voice cut through the silence and Mina blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“Smoking. It feels like a daydream,” Momo murmured, eyes still closed.

The room seemed to darken further at Momo’s words. Words failed to come to Mina and her tongue felt too big for her mouth. Another silence passed and Momo just chuckled – Mina thought it sounded sad.

“A daydream I never want to wake up from.”

Mina thinks that she should have steered clear away from Momo since then – her words were a flashing red sign. But she ignored the red flags, chose to stay with Momo. She scoffs, running a hand through her hair.

 “You should quit,” Mina says through gritted teeth.

“Quit what?” Momo’s voice is muffled and hoarse, sounding like she is in the midst of crying.

“Smoking.”

“Why?”

“You’re making others inhale second-hand smoke,” she pauses, drawing a shaky breath before continuing. “You’re killing the people around you.”

The words hang in the air, stifling and suffocating. Momo is suddenly behind her, holding her wrist to prevent her from leaving.

“I know,” Momo chokes out. “I wish I could stop.”

///

The first time Momo fucked her was in a restroom, against the wall. The tension between the two of them had always been there so it was no surprise when Momo dragged her to the washroom of a low-end, second-rate club and started to leave bruises on her lips and neck. The girl was forceful, strength driven by desires as she shoved Mina against the wall of a cramped cubicle. Her back hurt when it collided against the wall, but she didn’t think she could stop Momo, who was already yanking down her skirt frantically.

The sex was rough and even though Mina wasn’t a virgin, it hurt when fingers dug into her pink lacy panties. It felt terrible when Momo kissed her and accidentally bit her lower lip too harshly, because she could taste bitter copper and cigarettes in her mouth. Even so, there was no denying the arousal pooling between her legs as Momo tried to get herself off using Mina’s thigh.

By the time Momo was left gasping for air, chest heaving in and out, and grinning against her lips, Mina felt more used than loved.

She thought it didn’t matter because she was desperate for Momo and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

(She thought wrong.)

Mina is brought back to reality when Momo slumps against her, head on her shoulder and arms loosely slung around her waist. The blonde girl’s breath fans against Mina’s neck, tickling her gently. Lips start nearing and fingers start wandering, and Momo has Mina backed against the wall, leaving love bites on her neck. Mina just clenches her fist, hating the way her body instinctively reacts to Momo, neck angled to give Momo better access and heart rate increasing. There are shivers running up her spine and she curses inwardly at how she still yearns for Momo.

“Minari, why are you so pretty?” Momo breathes, hot and heavy, teeth nipping at Mina’s pulse point.

The compliment is something she is used to hearing and she suddenly feels eighteen again, when Momo first kissed her in the washroom of a club, giving Mina a first taste of danger—and she cannot stop.

Stray hands find their way to Mina’s waist. There’s a tug at her white blouse and experienced fingers deftly start to unbutton it, starting from the last button instead of the top. Momo yanks off her shirt, fingernails clawing at Mina’s taut abdomen.

“So fucking fit,” Momo mutters as she presses her lips on to Mina’s.

She sips on her bottom lip and the action clouds Mina’s judgment, mind sedated with endorphins. Mina accidentally lets out a moan when Momo leaves a trail of kisses along her jaw line. The intimacy of the act has Mina’s eyes fluttering shut, pleasure rushing through her veins.

The taste of nicotine is overwhelming and Mina gets drunk on it. It’s addictive and she chases it with hunger and desperation, lips latching on to Momo’s upper lip, feeling herself getting high. Momo only responds with fervour, hands reaching up to unhook her bra, dragging the garment off. When Momo breaks the kiss, only to wrap her lips around a nipple, Mina cannot help the sigh that escapes her.

Momo kisses her way down her body, leaving goose bumps on smooth skin. Mina has one hand tangled in Momo’s blonde hair and another clenched into a fist. The blonde unzips and pulls down her jeans till it reaches her knees, not even bothering to take them off completely. Gasping, Mina’s hand flies up to cover her mouth as Momo plays with the lining of her panties.

“You’re such a good girl, Mina. It makes me want to mar your skin with my kisses,” Momo nibbles on her inner thighs. “It makes me want to dirty you.”

The words suddenly hit Mina like a freight train and she blinks away the pleasure immediately. Now that her mind isn’t hazy anymore, she closes her eyes in frustration, arousal entirely dissipated.

“Is that why you kissed Jungyeon too?”

Momo halts, looking up at Mina, hands slowly backing away.

“What?”

“Is that why you kissed Jungyeon? Because Jungyeon’s a ‘good girl’ too?” Mina snaps, all the anger suddenly rushing to her.

Sana comes to mind and she curses inwardly, regret and guilt consuming her instantly at the thought of the older girl. With trembling hands, Mina hoists her jeans back up, using an arm to cover her modesty. She grabs her bra and blouse, quickly putting them on. She needs to leave. Momo merely hangs her head shamefully, standing a distance away, eyes red and brimming with fresh tears.

“Mina, don’t go,” Momo begs, and Mina sees the flash of hesitance before she confesses, “I love you.”

“No, you don’t have the capacity to love,” Mina laughs bitterly.

She can smell Momo on herself – alcohol and cigarettes – and it causes her to scrunch her nose in disgust, wondering how she allowed herself to drown in such substances again. When the high is gone, there is only guilt, regret and shame. She almost committed the same mistake twice. Perhaps this is why Momo cannot quit her vices—all for that temporary high that makes one forget.

Irresponsible. (Just like Momo.)

“Stay,” Momo demands, like the childish person she has always been, but Mina can no longer give her what she wants.                                                  

Mina cannot afford to stay anymore because she knows that this is not the love that she wants and needs. She craves a different love—a love that comes in the form of comfort and safety, a love that comes from someone else.

“We can’t live in a daydream forever, Momo. We need to wake up,” Mina breathes, exhausted and tired.

Mina doesn’t know why it took her so long to realize that.

She takes one last look at Momo before she leaves. Momo has her head down, but Mina can see her swollen eyes, dark and empty—lonely. Pale cheeks and parched lips. Mina finally realizes why Momo always looks lifeless.

She has been living in her head all this while.

“Goodbye, Momo.”

Clenching her fists and steeling her heart, she turns away from Momo, finally allowing herself to walk away.

///

When the door opens to reveal a sleepy-eyed Sana donned in pyjamas, Mina immediately flings her arm around the older girl, wrapping the girl in a tight hug. The intensity of the hug has Sana stumbling backwards a little, hands instinctively slipping around Mina’s waist. It wipes the sleepiness away immediately and Sana is suddenly very awake

“Mina! Why are you here? It’s so late now!” Sana exclaims, worry creasing her forehead as she frowns.

Mina tightens the hug, clinging on to Sana like a lifeline. The older girl carries a hint of fresh linen and jasmine. It’s not alcohol or cigarettes and Mina thinks that she should have met Sana earlier.

Sana reminds Mina of comfort, safety, love—and home.

“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago,” Mina mumbles into the girl’s PJs, snuggling into Sana’s warmth.

“What couldn’t wait until the morning?” Sana pulls away a little, eyes widened in both surprise and concern.

The older girl still rests her hands reassuringly on Mina’s waist and her touch is firm, yet gentle—never rough. Eyebrows tweaked in distress, the older girl looks so worried and adorable at the same time, Mina feels her heart clench for this woman.

She cannot help but smile because she can finally breathe.

“Coming home to you.”


End file.
